


Crushin' It

by WizardSandwich



Category: Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers: Cyberverse
Genre: Confessions, Crushes, M/M, i'm sorry if the characterization is awkward at best but i'm a prowl whore at heart, so 90 percent of my attention span belongs to that fuck
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-21
Updated: 2020-03-21
Packaged: 2021-03-01 03:02:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,021
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23248192
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WizardSandwich/pseuds/WizardSandwich
Summary: Cheetor has a crush. He doesn't really know what to do with it.
Relationships: Cheetor/Grimlock
Comments: 6
Kudos: 24





	Crushin' It

**Author's Note:**

> finally posting this over here from @tasteful-robot-loving on tumblr! it was a giveaway fic!

Cheetor has a crush. Or, at least, he thinks he does. He doesn’t know how else to explain the spasms in his spark or the way he can’t seem to quit staring. And Bumblebee and Hot Rod call it a crush and, well, Cheetor can’t think of a reason why they would be wrong about it.

Still, it’s getting… annoying, if only for the fact that he cannot seem to even look at Grimlock without stumbling over himself.

Like now.

“Are you okay?” Grimlock asks as he catches Cheetor. He servos are warm and comforting as he pushes Cheetor to stand again. He doesn't let go until Cheetor has his balance back.

“Fine,” Cheetor responds, face growing hot as Grimlock pats his shoulder. “I merely… tripped over my own pedes. No need to worry.”

Grimlock hums in a nonchalant way. “Understandable,” he says. “Say, I’m getting my evening energon. Would you like to join me?”

“I heard there was a meteor shower tonight. I was planning to watch it,” Cheetor rejects regretfully.

Grimlock smiles and it is soft. Cheetor would like to see it much more often. “Perhaps I can join you then,” Grimlock offers.

Cheetor nods, before realizing that he is perhaps too eager. He bites back the smile that threatens to come to his lips to balance it out. “That would be lovely,” he says stiltedly, remembering something Hot Rod had said about crushes. _Don’t be obvious._

Grimlock’s smile drops into a frown, “Unless you don’t want me there?”

His voice is quiet and unsure. It makes Cheetor’s spark twist. “No! Of course I want you there!” Cheetor tries to correct, a bit panicky. He doesn’t want Grimlock to think he hates him—that couldn’t be further from the truth.

“That’s a relief,” Grimlock says. “Now, would you like to accompany me to collect our fuel?”

Cheetor nods, slipping to Grimlock’s side. Grimlock looks contemplative as they begin their trek to the rec room, but Cheetor cannot think much of it. Grimlock has always be a thoughtful mech, for all of his flaws.

“So, why didn’t you look happy about my offer?” Grimlock asks after a long moment.

Cheetor startles. He hadn’t expected the question and now that it has been asked he does not know how to explain himself. Any explanation he can offer would merely give him away. The memory of Hot Rod’s sad optics but wide smile echo throughout Cheetor’s processor. The _don’t be obvious_ is as loud as ever.

“It is nothing of concern,” Cheetor tries, slipping into the rec room doorway.

He shuffles over to the dispenser, pulling out a cube for each. Grimlock doesn’t say a word, likely at least somewhat aware that the conversation isn’t worth having in public. If either of them were to get upset, it would likely cause issues.

“What’s your favorite additive?” Grimlock asks instead, pulling out various colorful packets. Cheetor has not had the pleasure of trying all of them yet.

He says as much, “I don’t know what they all taste like.”

Grimlock nods and picks up a blue one that Cheetor doesn’t recognize. “This one’s sweet,” Grimlock says. Cheetor feels like there might be an implication there that he doesn’t quite understand.

“I am sure it will be delightful,” Cheetor returns with a smile.

Grimlock smiles back. “It’s getting late. We should head out. I, for one, would not want to miss the shower.”

Cheetor leads the way up to the deck he’s chosen for this. He’s fond of Earth pillows, so there’s an abundance of them already sitting out.

“Ah, you were planning to stay out here?” Grimlock asks as they both sit down.

Cheetor shrugs, “A little cold never hurt anyone… or at least that’s what Bumblebee has told me.”

“True,” Grimlock agrees. “Or, at least, it’s true in this circumstance. Now, if it got too cold, say below freezing, then it would be a much different story. I knew a mech from Iacon who decided he wanted to visit an ice planet—”

Cheetor is content to listen to Grimlock speak as he watches the sky. His optics catch on a trail of light darting across it. He lightly taps Grimlock’s arm and the mech stops speaking.

“Wha—oh.” Cheetor can feel the way Grimlock shifts next to him. He can hear the awe in his voice. “That is a lovely sight. I haven’t seen one if these in millennia.”

“I have never seen one,” Cheetor confesses.

They fall into silence as they continue to watch. After another moment, Cheetor feels an arm circling his shoulders, a warm and safe weight. He does not speak a word as they continue to watch the sky.

When it’s over, he turns to look at Grimlock. Grimlock looks at him with soft optics and an even softer smile. “I hope that I was not in the wrong to do that,” Grimlock says.

“I suppose that depends.” Cheetor can hear the way his voice shakes, rife with insecurity.

“On?” Grimlock says.

Cheetor looks down after a moment. The weight of Grimlock’s arm never slips away. “What does it mean?” Cheetor asks.

It’s silent and, when Cheetor can no longer take it, he looks up again. Grimlock’s optics meet his. “I would hope it means that we both have a returned interest in each other. Is that right?”

Hesitating for only a moment, Cheetor nods. It leaves his spark pushing fast, as if he has just run a thousand miles, like he cannot slow until he cannot run anymore.

It is not unpleasant.

“Good.” Grimlock’s smile grows wider. “I’m relieved.”

“As am I,” Cheetor agrees quietly. “Would you like to stay with me, for the night?”

And Cheetor knows the implication of _those_ words, but he gestures to the pile of pillows to make a different point.

“I’d be happy to,” Grimlock says, removing his arm.

Cheetor slips into his alt mode, slinking across the deck. Behind him, he can hear the sounds of Grimlock’s transformation. Cheetor curls himself into the middle of the pile and he purrs contently when a bigger, warmer frame curls up around him.


End file.
